


100 Things

by enjolras_lexa



Series: Dear Evan Hansen AU fics [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst and Humor, Biology student!Evan Hansen, Bisexual Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Bisexual Evan Hansen, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy Get Along, Diary/Journal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan Hansen Deserves Happiness, Evan is still a mess, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Most of the time, Music student!Connor Murphy, POV Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Pass it on, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, These poor boys, hes better but hes still a mess, so yeah friendship and love and mental health issues thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolras_lexa/pseuds/enjolras_lexa
Summary: Connor found himself smiling slightly despite himself at this odd, awkward boy in the blue striped polo who pinned confidence notes to his wall.“What’s your name again?""Evan. Evan Hansen"“Connor Murphy." he returned, getting up to shake Evan's hand.He just had time to notice how Evan’s left arm looked a little skinnier than his right, before their hands were clasped and he remembered too late that he’d taken his sweater off earlier. He hoped Evan wouldn’t notice the now faint white lines on his right forearm, turning his left arm slightly so those scars wouldn’t show either."It’s been ages, they barely show anymore," Connor reminded himself. And after all, no one else had ever noticed them before, why should Evan?College Roommate AU!Connor POV, with some journal entries. Not really a romance fic, but with some slow build Evan/Connor friendship and eventual boyfriend-ness. Rated T for swearing and suicidal themesNewly edited! Let me know if there's anything else I can fix





	1. The Boy's a Time Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea a while back for an original work but it goes really well with DEH so that brings us all here today. I also made a Connor playlist (hence the song chapter titles, this one's from Time Bomb by Rancid) so check that out under my works if you like music while you read.
> 
> I'm apparently the only one who headcanons Connor as bi so... oops? It's been a long time since I last wrote a multi-chapter fic and this is my first in this fandom so if it sucks sorry.  
> This is mostly fluff because this fandom needs more love (with some angst and hurt/comfort because c'mon it's DEH) but mind the tags. Things shouldn't get too graphic (warnings chapter by chapter when applicable) but there are mentions of self-harm, past suicide attempts, depression and anxiety so stay safe.  
> Edit: this got a lot angstier than initially planned, stay tuned. 
> 
> *******Warning: past self harm mention********

“What’s that?”

Connor Murphy was perched on the edge of his mattress, killing time and tuning his violin, as his roommate was hanging up little notes written on pastel-blue stationary on the wall next to the bed on his own side of the room. The other boy's cropped blonde hair and small frame sharply contrasted Connor's own build, tall and lanky with long dark hair that curled at the ends and nearly reached his broad shoulders. Connor squinted, just able to make out the first line of one of the letters, but the other boy’s handwriting was too cramped and shaky to read clearly.

The other boy turned when Connor had spoken, a slightly nervous smile on his face. 

“Oh, um, it’s an assignment from my therapist. Little notes and letters to myself, like a confidence thing? For uh. Anxiety.”

Connor nodded, unsure of what to do with this unexpected personal information. He supposed he shouldn't have asked if he hadn't wanted to know, but he was surprised at how up front the other boy was about it, considering they had just met about an hour ago. 

Most of Connor’s stuff was still in boxes around their room, he’d only bothered to make the bed and get out his toothbrush before giving up on unpacking for the day, but his roommate seemed bent on settling into their residence as soon as possible, no matter how long that took. Connor had glanced at him a few times as he puttered around the room, carefully adjusting small items and moving stuff around from one spot to another. Little potted plants and cacti of various sizes, easily the most peculiar addition to the decor, were littered across his nightstand and atop the bookcase. Any visitors would immediately see the additions to his side of the room, things like framed family photographs and posters for geeky movies and other personal touches that Connor’s side was completely devoid of.

“What’re you studying?” his roommate asked after a minute or two of silence and Connor plucking strings, G, D, A, E in succession, making minute turns with the fine-tuners as the tuner-cum-metronome app on his phone dictated.

“Music,” Connor replied, holding up the violin as proof. “I’m a double major actually, violin and literature. Kind of useless as degrees actually but…” He shrugged.

“Not at all,” his roommate replied at once, seeming surprised at his own forwardness. “I mean, if it’s what interests you......I’m in biology. I like trees and studying how ecosystems work mostly, but I’m not really sure what I want to do yet though.”

“Same.”

Connor found himself smiling slightly despite himself at this odd, awkward boy in the blue striped polo who pinned confidence notes to his wall. “What’s your name again?”

“Evan. Evan Hansen.”

“Connor Murphy,” he returned, putting his instrument down and getting up to shake Evan’s hand.

He just had time to notice how Evan’s left arm looked a little skinnier than his right, before their hands were clasped and he remembered too late that he’d taken his sweater off earlier. He hoped Evan wouldn’t notice the now faint white lines on his right forearm, turning his left arm slightly so those scars wouldn’t show either.

 _It’s been ages, they barely show anymore,_ Connor reminded himself. And after all, no one else had ever noticed them before, why should Evan?

He pulled his hand out of Evan’s after a brief handshake and took a step back, trying to pass the movement off as casual.

“It’s a good idea, the notes,” he offered lamely. “I should give that a try.”

Evan looked at him curiously, as though seeing if Connor was making fun of him. He fiddled with a frayed patch of his shirt hem absentmindedly.

“I don’t know if it works,” Evan said after a beat. “It just kinda gets me through the day, you know? Journals are good too. Gives you something to do to keep busy and not overthink everything all the time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.” Connor flopped back on his bed, pulling one of his boxes over to look for a novel to read.

“Getting out of the house is always good too,” Evan went on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the short-lived conversation was over. “I’m a freshman, and I don’t know anyone yet, so if you maybe want to go hang out somewhere or something? You’re new too, right?”

“Yeah,” Connor nodded, still not looking directly at his roommate. “I’m a little older than you though, I had to repeat part of my senior year of high school.” _From inside the hospital,_ he finished inside his head.

Evan made a small hum of understanding, and went back to unpacking-slash-obsessively-rearranging.

Connor found what he was looking for, _A Perfect Gentle Knight,_ a book he’d loved from childhood, but something stopped him from disappearing into it just yet.

“We could hang out sometime. Or whatever,” he offered. Evan grinned at him, and he found himself smiling a little too.

“Cool! And you should consider the journal thing too, it really helps to see your thoughts written out. I think it organizes them better than just letting them stay inside your head.”

“Because of your anxiety?” Connor ventured carefully, but Evan didn’t seem to mind the intrusion.

“Sorta, but it’s good for everyone I think. I like numbering the things I did each day, like 100 things to do besides stressing out over hypotheticals that probably won’t happen anyway. It’s soothing, kind of.”

 _100 things to do instead of killing yourself,_ Connor mused dryly.          

“Maybe,” he said aloud. It wouldn’t be an _awful_ idea, he supposed. Kind of fucking depressing, but what else was new?

It was through this course of events that Connor found himself staring down a sheet of loose leaf paper later that night (he’d buy a journal or at least a notebook tomorrow). He tucked a lock of long, black hair behind his ear, nibbling on the end of his pen and wondering when he’d let himself be pushed around by boys in blue polos and their lame project ideas. He huffed out a sigh and started scribbling.

 

  1. _Unpack room (kind of)_
  2. _Meet your roommate_
  3. _Make a friend (??) Maybe?_
  4. _Read book you’ve already read like thirty times_
  5. _Listen to music_
  6. _Let yourself get sweet-talked into starting a feelings journal_
  7. _Resist the urge to cut_
  8. _Pick at nail polish_
  9. _Hate writing_
  10. _Give up on ‘journaling’ and go to bed_



 

 


	2. People Are Connecting, Don't Know What To Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys start to get a little closer. Lovely fluffiness ensues, before the angst hits *cue evil laughter*
> 
> Title from The Outsider by Marina and the Diamonds.

Connor came back one evening from his last class of the day disgruntled and exhausted, dropping his bag and violin case unceremoniously onto the floor beside his bed and letting the door close behind him with a satisfying slam. Evan flinched at the noise.

“Sorry,” said Connor, too tired to really mean it.

“S’okay,” Evan muttered, glancing over from where he sat at his desk. “You’re back pretty late.”

“You’re up pretty late,” Connor shot back. _Shit._

“Working on an assignment?” he offered, trying to make his voice sound less…like himself. They’d only been roommates just over two weeks, but somehow Evan didn’t hate him yet and (to his own surprise more than anything) Connor wanted to keep it that way.

“Yeah, just finishing off a paper. How many classes did you have today?”

Connor cracked his neck, wincing slightly and rolling his shoulders a few times just to hear the somewhat satisfying sound of the bones crunching.

“Too many,” he grumbled, flopping down heavily onto his bed. He didn’t miss a single damn thing about high school (the whole experience could be summed up quite neatly as simply ‘hell’) but gone were the days where he could skip class with no real consequences (of course the skipping generally led to getting high, so maybe it was better all-around that he’d been forced to give up both habits).

Connor let his heavy eyelids fall closed, listening to the surprisingly peaceful sound of Evan typing.

Evan was a diligent enough student, so already Connor had plenty of experience with coming back from class to find him working on homework that had likely only been assigned that morning. Evan seemed to be a much more confident writer than a speaker, judging by the consistent clacking of computer keys, so completely unlike the way he stuttered and hesitated every time he opened his mouth. Though (despite his natural dislike, if not outright hatred, of most people) Connor found Evan’s quirks endearing more than annoying. And if Evan didn’t overtly despise Connor’s thoughtless comments and moody silences, so much the better, right?

Surprisingly, it was Evan who broke the silence.

“Are you still journaling?”

_Oops. Fuck._

 

“Um, not really?” Connor offered, opening one eye tentatively. He felt guilty, without really knowing why. It’s not like he would disappoint Evan, right? They barely knew each other. “I’ve been a little stressed with classes. Are you typing letters to yourself?”

“Oh no, no way,” Evan said, giggling nervously the way he always did when he was embarrassed. “I just type assignments. In high school actually, I used to type my letters and print them in the computer lab, because A, my hand shakes when I write, and B, hardly anyone ever used the computer lab outside of class so I could do it without anyone watching me. But, uh, something happened, and someone I knew found one of them, and, well, now I make do with handwriting them. My therapist hardly ever asks to see them anymore though, they’re mostly just for me. _Dear Evan Hansen, today’s going to be a good day, and here’s why,_ et cetera, et cetera.”

“That’s good,” Connor muttered, letting his eyes close again. “Why don’t I do my journal out loud instead?

_“_ _ 1\. Go to class. _

_ 2\. Abhor said classes, and come home exhausted.  _

_ 3\. Feel your bow arm ache and your left hand cramp up, yet be too weak to stretch. _

_ 4\. Realize you’ve gotta be the biggest goddamn masochist of all time to play the violin and actually like it despite the intense physical pain. _

“Yup, that sounds like my day. Tell me that’s not the saddest fucking thing you’ve ever heard.”

Evan snickered.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not,” Connor said with a shrug. “Beats high school anyway, but then again so would getting run over by a freight train. It’s just….I don’t know.”

“No, what were you going to say?”

Connor could feel Evan’s eyes on him now, and the soothingly rhythmic typing had stopped. Connor opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

“What is it?” Evan pushed again. Connor resisted the urge to tell him to fuck off. Somehow, maybe because Evan has enough problems without Connor’s input, or maybe just because he’s getting soft, he knew doesn’t ever want to push Evan away, doesn’t ever want to see that kicked-puppy look in Evan’s eyes and know that he put it there.

 “It’s just,” he tried again. “Leaving high school was probably the best thing to happen to me pretty much ever, but it’s still not all that great, you know? Like some stupidly naïve part of me thought I’d stick it out, graduate high school, make a million friends in college, and all my problems would just magically go away. Pretty pathetic, right?”

“Not at all,” Evan said softly. After a moment, he adds, “You know, Connor, I could be your friend, if you wanted.”

Instead of answering, Connor continued with his out-loud journaling.

_ “5. Make friends with your adorably awkward roommate-“ _

 

Evan snickered again. Connor decided then and there that he likes that sound even more than the typing.

 

_“ 6\. Tell said roommate that he’s not in kindergarten anymore and doesn’t have to ask someone to be friends with him._

_ 7\. Realize you’re not a great expert on friendships, considering you’ve never had one. _

_ 8\. Collapse of exhaustion and go to sleep. _

 

“9 and 10 are just me snoring,” Connor finished flippantly.

“Oh, well. Goodnight then,” Evan murmured, returning to his essay and looking away while Connor changed into sweatpants and-

“A fox-print sweater?” Evan asked incredulously. “Isn’t that not, like, hardcore enough for you? Baby foxes don’t exactly scream punk rock.”

“Oh shut up, I look adorable,” Connor grumbled lightly, making Evan laugh again.

He tucked himself into bed, flicking off the lamp on the nightstand so that Evan’s laptop and desk lamp gave off all the light in the room.

“Don’t stay up too late, m'kay?” he murmured sleepily.

“Connor, it’s 9.”

“Oh. Well. Goodnight. I am glad we’re friends now, you know that, right?”

“So am I.”

Connor could practically hear the smile in Evan’s soft voice.

He drifts off to the click-clack of confident fingers on a keyboard, and sleeps for once without dreaming.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shoutout to the kudos-ers and commenters! You make me smile :)  
> Also, it's harder than I thought it would be to have a character that swears when you don't swear a whole lot. Hmm. Anyway.  
> See you next week!
> 
> \- EL


	3. Sincerely, Me/All We See Is Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to For Forever and got emotional because the boys deserve love and if they had been friends they both would have been so much better off and....yeah.  
> Chapter title from DEH (as you know).  
> Despite my late update (sorry!) this one picks up right where we left off.  
> Comment/kudos/subscribe if you please, and thank you thank you thank you for all the support so far.  
> ******Brief self-harm mention******
> 
> -EL

 

Despite having gone to bed early, Connor still wanted to put his phone through the window when his alarm went off the next morning. He rolled over and tapped the ‘snooze’ button (with his middle finger, out of sheer spite), but resigned himself to getting up before it could go off again. He noticed two missed calls from Zoe, and made a mental note to check in with her later that day. 

Evan had already left; most of his classes started earlier than Connor’s, the trade-off being that he was usually finished by early afternoon (Connor definitely was not an early bird, so he had made sure that his classes started at 10 o'clock minimum).

Checking the clock on his phone, Connor figured he had about half an hour to shower, grab coffee and toast, and get his stuff together for his poetry class.

As had become custom, Connor went over to Evan’s side of the room to read that day’s letter. The first time he had felt so guilty he had resolved never to even think about reading Evan’s obviously super-private notes, but Evan had said later that he didn’t really mind.

“I can write them for both of us,” Evan had suggested with a tentative smile, and just like last night when they had officially become friends, Connor couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

During that first week as roommates, Evan had started addressing the notes to both of them:

 

_Dear Evan Hansen (and the Roommate-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named),_

_Today is going to be a good day, because I have a lab today and I love labs, because Connor has a presentation and (unlike me) he’s actually good at public speaking, and because (since I’m ahead in my assignments) I will be watching the third Harry Potter movie tonight (which I have on good authority is_ someone’s _favourite, so he’s welcome to join me)._

_Sincerely, - EH_

 

 

_Dear Evan Hansen (and Connor Murphy, if he still wants me to do this),_

_Today is going to be a good day, because it’s finally starting to feel like fall and it looks super pretty outside now that the leaves are turning. Also it might rain later, so Connor might want to take an umbrella, or a jacket with a hood (long hair + humidity = bad I would assume.) Text if you want to meet up for coffee later?_

_Sincerely, Evan_

 

Today would be Evan’s first note in a while, if he had had time to write one. They had both been swamped with homework over the past few days, but it was nearing the weekend now and things seemed to be letting up a little.

Sure enough, a fresh scrap of paper was pinned neatly below the others:

 

 

_Dear Evan and Connor,_

_Today’s going to be an amazing day, and here’s why:_

_Even if everything imaginable goes horribly wrong, and you feel sad or angry or just overwhelmed, you each have a new friend now who will be more than happy to listen. Connor didn’t really say last night, but I get the feeling that he could use a friend just as much I can right now. I’ve never really had anyone I could talk to about…well…life, and stuff (very specific, Evan) and I was never really close enough to anyone in high school that they would confide in me, but I’m here if you ever want to talk, Connor._

_Sincerely, Evan Hansen._

 

Before he could talk himself out of it, Connor stole some of Evan’s stationary and scribbled out a message, pinning it to his own side of the room when he had finished:

 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_You’re right, things have been ~~hard~~   ~~bad~~   ~~rough~~ _

_Things haven’t been easy for me, for longer than I can really say. If someone had asked me a little while ago when the last time I was happy had been, I would have said I couldn’t remember. Now I would say that if it wasn’t the second we became roommates, it was definitely last night when we became friends._

_I’ve never really had a friend either, but I’m glad I have one now. I’m here too, if you ever want to talk to me about stuff. I'm not sure if I'd be any help with, well, anything, but I would be happy to listen at least. I don’t know about you, but I’m done with pushing people away._

_Today **IS** going to be a good day, because:_

  1. _I’m actually caught up in my homework for a change, so (because you’re always ahead) we’re both taking the night off._
  2. _You get to decide what we do (movie, walk, whatever) with no (okay, minimal) complaints from me._
  3. _Today for me marks three months clean of self-harm, which doesn't really sound like much but I’m proud of myself for that._
  4. _I’ll actually play something for you later like you’ve been asking. I pick the piece though._
  5. _I don’t know. I could paint your nails or something? Coming up with reasons why today’s going to be good is kind of exhausting, I don’t know how you think of them (that’s depressing, okay moving on)._
  6. _Show me some tree stuff later?_
  7. _It’s supposed to be nice out this weekend. There’s this apple orchard my family and I used to go to when I was a kid; it’s closed down now, but we could sneak in? So there’s that to look forward to today?_
  8. _(Almost done, good!) Today’s going to be good because you’re a really good person and somehow you’re willing to put up with me._
  9. _Because we’re friends. I still can’t get over that for some reason._
  10. _This is getting sappy. I’m just happy for a change, okay? I don’t expect it to last, but at least everything’s okay for now._



_Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, Me._


	4. The Ghosts and Shadows the World Just Disavows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and moderate angst, with (TW) non-graphic mentions of past suicide attempts.  
> Chapter title from Mercy by Muse (great song!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so no one's confused, Evan and Jared went to the same high school; Connor and Zoe went to a different one; Alana and Zoe used to go to school together but then Alana transferred. I think it's clear in this chapter but I wanted to make sure.  
> Happy belated bisexuality day (Sept. 23rd, oops!) in honour of all these bi characters (and my very bi self) and happy belated Thanksgiving if any of my readers are fellow Canadians!
> 
> Edit: ahhhh I found a typo just now and wanted to die. If anything doesn't make sense (ie missing words) or if you see a typo PLEASE let me know so I can fix it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Saturday October 6th, 2018

12:32 am

_Wow, a real journal entry! So exciting, isn’t it? I figured if I was going to do this I may as well go all out and get an actual notebook. Much better than leaving papers in random folders for different classes because it would really fucking suck if someone found them and decided to read them._

_So. News._

  1. _I just got assigned a bunch of group projects that are all due around the same time mid-October, so that was fun._
  2. _Evan and I hung out a few Fridays ago when I got back to our room and some more over the weekend, and that actually_ was _fun._
  3. _I took him to the orchard. It was kind of sad to see it looking so run down and abandoned after all the time me and Zoe spent there growing up, but I don’t regret going._
  4. _I wanted us to go to À La Mode after, cold weather be damned, but it was closed and looked like it hadn’t been open in a while. It was kind of a perfect day anyway though. I still haven’t gotten used to us being friends. I like it. Liked it._
  5. _We kept leaving each other notes. I really like that too._
  6. _I told him about….well. About what happened last year. I wasn't going to, but...I don't know. I wanted to._
  7. _He told me about what happened with Jared and the note. Later he...filled in the blanks._ _How it ended with him lying on his back in a forest with a broken arm. But something about his story didn’t seem right, didn’t make sense._
  8. _I pushed._
  9. _I shouldn’t have pushed._
  10. _Why do I always have to fuck everything up?_



Connor put down his pen, squinting at the page in the dim lamplight, trying to figure out what to write next.

Hanging out with Evan the other weekend had actually been the best possible way to recharge after a stressful week of school. Neither of them really had a lot of work yet, but even one small assignment for each class adds up pretty quickly, so had Connor figured they both could use a break.

Evan was already there (as usual) when Connor made it back to the room Friday night, curled up on his bed in a fluffy blanket with a book that was no doubt full of pictures of interesting trees. He mumbled a hello when Connor came in, but didn’t look up.

That would have irritated Connor had he been more sociable or less tired; besides, he knew Evan well enough by now to know better than to interrupt him when he was absorbed in something. Chancing a glance at his wall, he noticed Evan had drawn a smiley face on the note he had left that morning, and couldn’t stop his face breaking into a grin.

He left to quickly change into sweatpants and brush his teeth, and came back to find Evan rooting through his (mostly completely unpacked at this point) boxes.

“I believe I was promised a nail-painting,” Evan declared, “But I have no idea where you keep your stuff so I’m pretty much just going to destroy your whole system if that’s okay.”

Connor snorted.

“It’s fine, my system is pretty much just shoving stuff wherever. I have black polish in the bedside table, but there’s some more colours in a box in my desk.”

Evan made a face. “I don’t think black would suit me somehow.”

“Maybe blue?” Connor offered. “You seem to wear a lot of it.”

“Blue’s good!” Evan agreed, so Connor dug out a few different shades and, when Evan denied having a preference, decided to use all of them.

He had thought it might be awkward painting another guy’s nails, but it really wasn’t that bad. Connor just had to forget about the only other time he had done this for someone, with his ex-boyfriend (singular) from junior high, a relationship that had barely lasted a few weeks and had made them both the subjects of far too many unpleasant rumours.

He hated that high school could still make him cringe, and decided to focus on what he was doing instead so he at least wouldn’t screw this up.

They were barely touching, Evan’s hand resting on top of a tissue where they were both perched on Connor’s bed, but Evan’s hands shook a little no matter what and he was fidgeting slightly on top of that so Connor found himself holding his hand in place with his fingertips in an effort to steady him.

“Your hands are cold,” said Evan awkwardly.

“Just keep still,” Connor shot back, kicking himself mentally when Evan muttered an apology, and tried his best to finish both hands as quickly as possible.

“There! All done,” he announced lamely about ten minutes later.

Evan blew gently on his nails (indigo polish on his pinkies and gradually getting lighter until the bright shade of sky blue on his thumbs), smiling a shy smile that Connor couldn’t help but return.

“Why don’t you do mine?”

“Are you sure?” Evan asked, seeming surprised that Connor would ask.

“Yeah, why not? The black paint’s starting to chip anyway.”

Connor set up a movie on his laptop (“It’s going to take me forever, Connor, we may as well”) as Evan selected the sparkly periwinkle colour Connor had used on Evan’s middle fingers (“So when you flip people off they’ll _feel_ it, Evan”). Connor kept his eyes on the screen (they had made it to the sixth Harry Potter movie by now) so Evan wouldn’t feel watched. He still couldn’t help stealing glances every so often at the look of concentration he’d seen so many times before on the other boy’s face, usually only directed at schoolwork, or a book, which was fixated now on him.

 

 

Connor re-focused himself on his journal. It had been a great night, but a lot had happened with Evan since then, and he needed to sort it out. How could things have gone so quickly from being really great to being so screwed up?

He shut his journal and stuffed it forcefully but quietly into the drawer of his bedside table, making sure he wouldn’t wake Evan. He didn’t look like he was sleeping much either though.

Connor pulled out his phone and typed out a quick message to Zoe.

  _The only good_ _thing to come out of attempting suicide senior year,_ Connor mused dryly to himself. 

When he had woken up in the hospital, she had been there, and had refused to leave his side even though they hadn’t been close since elementary school and had been at each other’s throats more often than not in recent years.

But there, they had made a truce, and that truce had been the first step towards them becoming friends again instead of strangers who just happened to live in the same house.

 Their parents had pretty much stayed in denial about the whole thing, insisting to any friends of theirs who asked that it had been a bad accident, but she had refused to tiptoe around him and insisted instead that he start seeing a therapist and that he should come talk to her whenever it was too much to take, _before_ things got out of control again.

Zoe had helped him catch up on all the work he had missed at school, and had even confided in him when she found herself having feelings for a girl friend of hers who had changed schools to be with her boyfriend at the start of the year. They had finally started being there for each other through the hard stuff, instead of tearing each other down.

If anyone could patch things together between him and Evan, she could. Connor had to hope that she could.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has kudos-ed/commented/bookmarked, I really appreciate the support and you make me smile! :)


	5. Ask Me If I Love Him, It Depends On The Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cliché "For Forever" scene! All the fluff! And we're already half-way through the story this is crazy. Title from The Games I Play from Falsettos, another one of my obsessions and a really awesome musical.
> 
> And a big thank you to all you very patient readers for waiting, I had a nasty combination of mid-terms and writer's block. This chapter in particular gave me quite a bit of trouble so let me know if it's okay. Enjoy the fluff (while it lasts)!

 

Connor grinned at Evan as they drove to the orchard Saturday afternoon, inhaling the autumn breeze through the open windows and listening to a generic pop song on the radio.  

Connor pulled over by the fence next to a faded sign that read ‘Autumn Smiles Apple Orchard’, parked, and hopped out of the car.

“Isn’t this kind of, uh, illegal?” Evan pointed out, not for the first time.

Connor made a face. “Come on. There are no watchdogs, no security guards or cameras. There aren’t even any ‘no trespassing’ signs. Literally no one cares about this place anymore, Evan.” He grabbed Evan’s hand before he could talk himself out of it, leading him to the opening in the broken fence and pulling the other boy through after him.

The orchard was still beautiful. Of course, there weren’t as many nice apples there now since no one was tending to the trees, and the paths were virtually non-existent and drowned in big tufts of grass, but it was still easy to fall in love with the place again, despite the bittersweet feeling it gave Connor to think about coming here with his family.

“So what do you think?” Connor asked, jolting himself out of his thoughts.

“It’s amazing!” Evan kept looking around him, drinking in the trees and the sky and the autumn crispness in the wind and the air. Connor grinned at the smile he had, glancing out of the corner of his eye as the shorter boy shivered in the chilly weather and pulled his hands deeper into the sleeves of his blue hoodie.

“We should totally climb one of these,” said Connor after a while, gazing up at the sheer height of some of the trees around them.

“Oh, n-no, I don’t think I will,” Evan stuttered, suddenly looking at the ground and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. “S-scared of heights.”

“It’s okay,” Connor tried to reassure him. “We don’t have to, we can just walk or whatever, I don’t mind. I actually have a list for you.”

Connor dug a crumpled piece of paper out of his jacket pocket, balled it up and chucked it to Evan, who barely managed not to drop it. He unrumpled it and began to read aloud:

“One, go to orchard with Evan. Two, get Evan to talk about tree facts. Three, go out for lunch somewhere later. Four, check out that new tea place. Five put off doing homework. Six, buy a ridiculous amount of chocolate and Seven, watch Harry Potter again. Eight, show Evan a few of my favourite books that he absolutely has to read if we’re going to be friends. Nine, go to bed early because Ten, we both really have to start taking better care of ourselves. Wow, we have a pretty busy day ahead of us.”

For a while they just walked around the orchard, in silence at first and then to the stammering soundtrack of Evan spouting information about the different trees they saw, but eventually they flopped down onto a sunnier patch of slightly damp grass and just started talking. Eventually the subject turned to Evan’s anxiety.

“So how did you start with the letters to yourself anyway? You said it was your therapist?”

“Yeah,” Evan nodded, “When I was in high school, I didn’t really have any friends, and he thought it would help to give myself advice or whatever. I’m not sure how much good it did, considering what happened with Jared, but I kind of kept the habit.”

“What happened with Jared?”

Evan clammed up, looking like he had let that part slip without meaning to.

“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to,” Connor began, trying not to pry, but Evan waved him off.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind, it’s just a little embarrassing.” Evan ran one hand through his hair and collected his thoughts, giving Connor time to notice with a warm feeling that he hadn’t removed the blue nail polish yet.  

“So, I was in the computer lab so I could finish off that day’s letter, and I had just printed it out, but then Jared, who I was sort of friends with because our parents knew each other? Like we weren’t really close but we would still talk or hang out sometimes? Well, um, he brought the letter over because he was closer to the printer and he sort of read it? Like I don’t think he really meant to but, uh. I had sort of written something in it about his, uh, his girlfriend Alana who I had liked at the time and that… didn’t go over too well as you can probably imagine.”

Connor nodded, half kicking himself for prying and mostly just trying not to feel too disappointed that Evan was most likely straight. And even if he liked guys as well as girls, it was no guarantee that he would… well. That he would return whatever confused and muddled feelings Connor had begun to experience for him.

“And,” Evan continued, thankfully oblivious to Connor’s train of thought, “when Alana dumped him and came out as a lesbian later in the year, that didn’t really help matters for either of us. We still message sometimes, but-“

“Wait, Alana?” Connor wondered. “What’s her last name?”

“Beck? Why?”

Connor laughed. “That’s hilarious, I know her. She’s dating my sister, Zoe.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in the same fashion, just giggling and taking in the view.


	6. Where the Colours Don't Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the angst! Well not all of it but a fair amount. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts, unhealthy coping mechanisms, just unhealthy attitudes about mental illness in general, a lot of talk about self-harm and some of does get a little graphic. Stay safe. It was triggering enough to write. You won't miss anything plot-wise if you skip this chapter so do what you need to do.
> 
> Title from Where the Colours Don't Go by Sam Phillips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So your 10 things this week are snippets from Connor's journal over a period of weeks, starting from around the beginning of the fic to a little past where we left off in Ch. 5. It's like a little intermission between act 1 and act 2.  
> Comment to make me smile! Hope you like it

 

  1. I really hate to start a new journal with bad news, but I had a fight with my parents (father) over the phone this morning. It was just over something stupid, and then Mom came in and the two of them started sniping at each other so I just left. They didn’t even notice probably.



 

  1. Anyway, my day. It was raining all day today, which was actually pretty nice. Too many sunny days just get boring and look off, like a fake smile. I want to take a more active part here than in high school, where I sort of just…existed. I didn’t go out of my way to make friends, actually I basically just pushed everyone away. People were probably scared of me. I didn’t really care, but still. I kind of want to care, to start caring. I feel normal tonight. If not normal than at least all right. I can do all right. Haven’t self-harmed in ages, and I think things might be starting to take a turn for the better.



 

  1. I’m getting clean (self-harm not drugs, but that too). I just keep thinking about when I first started. I used to burn my forearm over the sink with boiled water that I let cool a little first, then a month or so after that I was…not cutting yet. Scratching? With a pin. It didn’t even really hurt I think, or maybe I just couldn’t feel it. It drew blood, and left a mark each time. I still have them, but I don’t really bother with covering them like I do with the cuts. You can only really see them under fluorescent lights anyway, like on the subway. I didn’t really understand why I was doing it then. I’m not sure I understand why _now_. I feel like if I’d kept a journal back then you’d read it and see me just getting gradually sadder. Pathetic, right? It took a while before I got up the nerve to actually cut. Fuck. I can’t write about this. I thought I could, but I can’t. _Fuck_.



 

  1. It doesn’t help that the most visible scar on my arm now is an accidental one. I burnt myself in the kitchen a few days ago. I barely felt it at the time so I didn’t really register it as anything serious, but the next day there was this gross red line. Maybe it’ll scar. I don’t know if I want it to or not. I don’t know if this is helping. Maybe I should talk to Evan about this. Eventually. Maybe.



 

  1. Finished reading 1984 again. It’s so twisted but I like it. I don’t think anything else I’ve read has so perfectly described how being a “minority of one” can make you feel insane. Many times (hundreds of times) I have wondered what could be so wrong with me that I feel so separate from everybody else.



 

  1. There’s just been so much on my mind lately. There seem to be more and more things I’m keeping to myself, more and more secrets inside me. Most of the time I’m left wondering what’s wrong with me. It’s like the whole world can see something I can’t; I have a horrible disease and no one’s bothered to tell me.



 

  1. I was just reading some of my earlier entries and like??? They all scream ‘depressed’???? Like stuff about eating and sleeping irregularly that I didn’t think about really, just jotted down at the time, and now I just look like a self-help pamphlet. Or a self-harm pamphlet, who knows. _Fuck_ , I’m screwed up. I’m not as bad as I was, and I think I’m getting better or on the way to getting better but in the meantime I’m still a fucking mess.



 

  1. So I relapsed. Part of me feels disappointed; I was about three months clean after all, but part of me just felt better afterwards. I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and with all the Evan-related emotions…I know I’m trying way too hard to justify it but I just have to say that part of me was relieved to go back to that old coping strategy. It’s…I’m still trying to get clean, it’s just a process and it takes time. I don’t know why I’m so calm about this. There was a time when I couldn’t go longer than a day or two, then a week, then I was in the hospital so I was kind of forced to stay clean and that worked for a few months, but anyway the point is that I can get clean. I know I can do better, I’m fucking trying so hard what’s wrong with me why can’t I just fucking



 

  1. I want to cut. I only did it once, last night, no longer than any of the others but it felt deeper, or maybe I’d forgotten how it felt. My arm’s a little sore now. I’ll have to wear long sleeves until it scars over or at least until it looks a little less obviously like a cut. Is this too graphic for you, journal? I honestly can’t tell if writing about it is making me better or worse.



 

  1. I feel okay today. I know my journal probably makes me look like a depressed nutcase but I usually only journal when I’m emotional, good or bad. Anyway, maybe I am a depressed nutcase. But it’s been two weeks since I last cut! I know that’s not really saying anything, but I do want to get better. I’m not suicidal, I don’t wish I was dead or that I didn’t exist, I just wish I could be someone else sometimes. All the time. Like someone who made all the choices he was supposed to and wanted the life his parents wanted him to have.  I don’t really know what else to say.



 


	7. But I Can't Get Too Close To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more angst (evil laugh)
> 
> Over 100 kudos! You guys are awesome and your comments give me life :) thanks for being so patient about me not updating very fast. 
> 
> title from Kissaphobic by Make Out Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is set after 6 but before 4, if you maybe want to go back and re-read quickly. so this will catch us up to the present basically. just wanted to put this here in case it's not clear in the chapter. Also the violin thing happened to me, it sucked.
> 
> Oh it's not relevant to the plot but I see Alana as trans and Jared and Zoe as pan. I also sorta headcanon Jared as ace. Do with that info whatever you like. This chapter is sorta short, sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> TW: depression, self-harm mention, talk of suicide and suicide attempts.

 

Ten moments that lead to a fight

 

1.

Connor was sprawled on his bed when Evan came through the door in the mid-afternoon.

“Did you move today?”

“Ha,” Connor said mirthlessly, not so much as deigning to sit up. “My class was cancelled.”

“That’s not an answer, but alright.”

Connor made a noncommittal noise and pulled out his laptop. “I’m waiting for my project partner to email me our Powerpoint so I can have the notes I need to start my paper. My eight-page paper. My eight page paper which is due Friday. My eight-page paper, due Friday, that I will most likely fail. And this is the house that Jack built.”

Evan snickered.  Connor absently threw a pillow in his direction while murdering the refresh button.

His phone ping-ed. Connor glanced at it to see a sickeningly cute photo Zoe had sent of Alana kissing her on the cheek. He managed a grin despite himself and jokingly typed back ‘That’s really gay’, to which Zoe replied ‘Love you too bro’ with her absurdly fast typing skills.  

 

2.

“Seriously though,” Evan went on after a moment. “Are you okay? You’ve been really off lately.”

“I don’t even know where to start with that question.” _Are you okay Connor? What’s wrong now Connor? Are you feeling better Connor? Don’t be so defensive Connor._

Connor growled at himself. _Why can’t my brain just shut the fuck up?_

Evan thought for a moment.

“Two truths and a lie?” he suggested.

 

3.

It had begun to be an inside joke between them by now. Connor had remarked that they were both so incredibly bad at basic social skills that they should just resort to crappy get-to-know-you games instead of talking, and now I Spy, Truth or Dare, and Two Truths and a Lie were known to make a regular appearance, especially when one of them (admittedly usually Connor) was being moody and reclusive. Evan was the only one who could get Connor to talk when he was in a mood now. Connor was surprised Evan didn't hate him yet honestly. It was only a matter of time before Connor snapped at him the next time he was angry and...... 

Connor took his turn instead of answering. “I have double-jointed thumbs, I love cauliflower, and my violin E string broke this week and I had to replace it.”

“The cauliflower,” Evan answered immediately. “I saw you picking it out of your food yesterday. And you already showed me the weird ways your thumbs can bend and for the record it’s super gross. Umm, I love knitting, I have never smoked drugs, and I have never broken a bone.”

Connor paused. “I don’t know which is more unsurprising, the fact that you have never experimented with stuff or the fact that you call it ‘smoking drugs.’”

Evan threw back the pillow Connor had thrown at him, with considerably better aim. “What is your guess, goofball?”

“The knitting?”

“Wrong!” Evan looked pleased. “I broke my arm in high school.”

 

4.

“How’d you manage that?”

Connor thought he saw Evan look a little uncomfortable, before his expression wiped itself clean again.

“Well, I was a Park Ranger at Ellison State Park in the summer before my senior year of high school,” Evan began, with the ease of someone who has told this story many times before, “And I saw this huge 40-foot tall oak tree and decided to climb it. It was totally childish and lame, but I thought it might be fun for whatever reason, and then I went a bit too high and the branches got thinner and thinner until…” He shrugged. “I fell. It’s not really a very exciting story. Do you feel more like talking now? You’ve seriously been off lately, I’m getting a little worried.”

“You’re always worried,” Connor snapped before he could stop himself. _Wow, nice job asshole,_ he screamed internally, _make fun of your only friend’s crippling anxiety,_ but Evan took it in stride.

“Fair point. Still, I’m here whenever you need it.”

Connor sighed. _May as well get it over with and tell him. Want to find out how screwed up your roommate is, Evan? Do you really want to know?_

 

5.

“I tried to kill myself in high school.”

 

6.

Evan froze.

“Yeah,” Connor continued, finding himself unable to stop once he had said the worst of it. “It was the first day of senior year, and I had already decided to cut class. So I did, and I got high, and I just kept thinking _it’s never going to get better, it’s never going to get better,_ over and over and over. I just worked myself up to the point where I couldn’t see a way out of it, of any of it. I just- I just couldn't - It was like I was stuck in this dark tunnel with no light at the end and I couldn't see a way out. I just didn't see things getting better anytime soon, or even ever. I didn’t have friends, my parents sucked, my sister and I are great now but we had a really bad relationship at the time, and I just felt like my whole life was fucked up and by extension so was I.  I don’t know if I was or am seriously ‘officially’ depressed, it’s not that the world became a bleak and colourless horrible place to me, I just- It’s like my life went on without me and the world was the same and it went on without me and eventually I started thinking about how stuck I felt. And about how the world would carry on just fine if I was gone, no one would really have cared honestly. I- nothing mattered anymore. 

“The things that I loved doing were still there too, but I just stopped caring about them. About any of it. I couldn’t seem to bring myself to care about anything or anyone and I- I’m getting clean of self-harm now too, but it’s just- it’s hard. I keep relapsing because I can't seem to see the point in getting clean anymore. And I can’t always deal, so if I take that out on you sometimes I’m- I’m really sorry.”

 

7.

Evan looked like he didn’t really know what to do with that information. Connor thought back to his history of anxiety, and the time he said he didn’t really have friends either, and with this new arm-breaking story…Connor couldn’t help but wonder if Evan was afraid of not saying the right thing or of saying too much.

 

8.

“Did you really fall?”

“I- what?”

“Did you fall. I’m asking.” Connor took another shaky breath, unsure at what point in his fucked-up monologue he had started sobbing.

 

9.

“Did you fall, or did you let go?”

 

10.

Evan recoiled. “I fell. Why would you even- I fell. Of course I fell. What else would- I was climbing a tree and I- I fell. The branch broke- I lost my grip and I just- I fell. I know I have problems but you can’t just assume that I- that I would do something like that. Ever. Why would I? We’re not all as fucked up as you Connor!”

Connor buried his face in his pillow as Evan slammed the door.

_Why did I push- Why do I have to always fuck everythi- What’s wrong with you what’s wrong with you what-_


	8. It Messed Me Up, Need A Second To Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy angst and hurt/comfort. SO MUCH hurt/comfort. Also known as my attempt at healing all the hearts I broke last chapter lol 
> 
> TW: panic attacks, talk of past suicide attempts, methods of suicide, depression, anxiety, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy thoughts about one's own mental illness. Wow that's a lot.

 

10 moments after a fight 

 

1.

 Over the next week, Connor avoided Evan as best as he could manage while still sharing the same dorm room with him. He had screwed everything up, but he could do that much. Evan wouldn't want to see him either, not after what he'd said. After what they both had said.

He figured he was safe most mornings because of Evan's early classes, which he never _ever_ skipped come hell or high water. Connor almost laughed when he remembered the time a few weeks ago when he'd had to physically restrain Evan from going to class with a fever and a bad cold, before he felt a pang at the memory of a time when he and Evan were still friends.

 

After his own classes he would go to the library to study and mess around on his phone, then to the 24-hour pharmacy opposite the university to kill time until he was sure Evan would be either in the bathroom getting ready for bed or already sound asleep. The late nights, even with oversleeping through the mornings, were slowly killing him, and he went from his literature classes to violin and back in a depressed, sleep-deprived haze.

He’d done it perfectly, avoiding him for a little over a week and a half, when he came home at 2 am one night to find Evan waiting up for him.

 

2.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted as soon as Connor came in the door. “I’m so, _so_ sorry Connor.”

“Evan-“

But Evan cut him off before he could express his own overwhelming guilt.

“No, I- you trusted me and I let you down. You told me what- what you tried to do, how badly you’d been feeling going back _years_ and I threw it in your face. I got scared and overwhelmed and I know it’s not an excuse and I’m a horrible friend but- But there’s more, you- you were right. I freaked and lashed out at you and lied because you were concerned and-and you were hurting so badly and you were _right_. About me.

 

3.

“In high school I tried- I tried to-“ Evan’s voice broke and Connor felt a wave of nausea.

Not only had he unloaded all of his problems onto Evan, poor innocent bystander that he was, but he’d just had to try to force him to talk about-

No wonder Evan had exploded at him like that, he’d had every right to after Connor had- It was all his fault- how could he- the way he always did- fucking everything up- his fault his fault his-

 

“Connor, it’s- it’s okay, I need you to breathe alright?”

Connor felt a warm hand on his shoulder, could hear the concern in Evan’s voice, and he _couldn’t_ he couldn’t handle it anymore. Couldn’t handle the softness of Evan's voice, his touch, the gentleness he couldn’t possibly hope to deserve. He who always, _always_ screwed up everything, pushed everyone away, made everything worse just by being there. He jumped up from where he found himself and Evan sitting on the floor, crossed the room with two easy strides and forced himself to breathe.

“I- I don’t understand,” Connor managed. “It was my fault, you shouldn’t be apologizing. It’s just what I do, it’s not your fault Evan. I just fuck everything up, all the time, always.”

  _Hell, Evan’s usually a pretty soft-spoken guy,_ thought Connor _. I pushed and_ pushed _until he shouted at me. I screw up everything and everyone around me._

 

4.

“No you don’t.”

Connor hadn’t realized he’d said that last part out loud. 

“You’re- you’re so much more than you think Connor. You’re smart, and special- you _are_ so don’t argue with me. Maybe I don’t know you all that well-“

 _You do,_ Connor thought. _More than anyone._

“But you’re my best friend,” Evan continued, “My only friend, and if you ever disappeared, if anything ever happened to you, I would be broken even more than I already am. As you now know, I’m every bit as screwed up as you are. Your problems don’t scare me and you’re not going to mess up my life. I do that just fine on my own.”

 

5.

“How did you break your arm, Evan?”

 

6.

He shouldn’t have said it, but he couldn’t help it, and instead of storming out again like last time, Evan burst into tears, he just _broke_.

“Okay, it’s- it’s okay,” Connor said in what he hoped was a soothing voice but fucking hell he has no idea how to comfort people just in general, never mind someone in a state like this. He put his arm around the smaller boy and manoeuvered them into a sitting position on Evan’s bed. As an afterthought, he untucked Evan’s blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, but Evan shrugged it off and curled into Connor’s side instead, burying his face in the place by his throat where Connor’s shoulder met his neck. Connor rested his chin on Evan’s head and rubbed small circles on his back, waiting until his sobs began to subside and he could feel Evan’s breathing even out.

 

7.

“It wasn’t a real attempt,” Evan said suddenly, his voice surprisingly steady.

“You don’t have to-“

 

8.

“No, I- I want to. I owe you that much. It wasn’t like- like what you went through. It wasn’t like things were so bad for me. I only didn’t have friends besides Jared at school because I couldn’t talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they all secretly hated me and shut me out on purpose, it was my own fault for not trying. I just felt sometimes like- like nothing I said made a difference or mattered to anyone. Like I didn’t belong anywhere.

“Even with a therapist working on my anxiety with me, I still couldn’t seem to try harder to just-  And my mom is really amazing, she gave up everything for me. She’s understanding and easy to talk to, and I would talk to her but when it comes to this- She’s busy but she’s always been there when I needed her, _always_ , so the idea that I thought that I could do something like that to her, something so incredibly selfish, like I thought I had the right to ruin her life-  I-I don’t know what I was thinking.

“It wasn’t even a real attempt. If you want to- to kill yourself you jump off a building or a bridge or _something_ , not a freaking tree. I don’t know what I was thinking, maybe I could smash my head open on a conveniently placed rock? Stupid. Thankfully I only broke my arm, so I was still able to drive myself to the hospital once it was clear that- Once it was clear that nobody was coming to get me. What if I’d broken both arms, or a leg, or gotten a concussion? I had stayed after hours to make sure that no one could stop me. I wouldn’t have _died_ , but I could have been seriously injured and unable to go for help. It wasn’t a real-“

 

9.

“It was a cry for help, Evan.”

Evan laughed shakily.

“A cry for help. I never even told anyone, you know that? You’re the only one who knows. I have both my mom and an experienced therapist to complain about my stupid issues and made-up problems to and what do I do? I hide, like I always do.”

“You have empathy for someone like me, but not for yourself?” Connor murmured, gently stroking Evan’s cropped blond hair. Neither of them had pulled out of the embrace. “It _was_ a real attempt, Evan. Maybe you didn’t overdose and wake up in the hospital like some idiots you know, but you were in pain. You couldn’t reach out to anyone, and you didn’t know what else to do. It’s okay to admit that you have real problems and that you need help. I think I could stand to learn how to do that too.”

 

10.

Evan pulled himself out of where he’d been holding onto Connor like a lifeboat, and Connor reluctantly loosened his arms from where they’d wrapped around him, but instead of getting up Evan cupped Connor’s jaw and pulled him closer. Connor didn’t have time to show his surprise before their lips touched, softly, hesitantly, and then more passionate and intense as they drew closer to each other and Connor felt Evan’s hands run through his long hair, impossibly gentle.

But Evan broke the kiss as quickly as he’d initiated it and collapsed sobbing and apologizing into Connor’s arms again. All Connor could do was say “It’s okay,” over and over, and hold Evan as tightly as he possibly could, anything to reassure him that he was there, that he wouldn’t leave him. Evan didn’t seem to realize that Connor had kissed him back, he had no idea how much Connor had wanted this too, but there was no time for that now. Beyond exhausted and emotionally drained, they fell asleep together at around four in the morning.


	9. Maybe We'll Turn It Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff and sweetness! this chapter is so sappy I apologize in advance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Never Too Late by Three Days Grace

Over the next few weeks, everything started to go back to normal for Connor and Evan. 

Evan had begun confiding more in Connor about his depression and anxiety, either face to face or through the notes they still left for each other every day, and neither of them felt like they had to deal with their problems alone anymore. Connor felt like they were both very much on the same level now that he didn't feel like he had to hide the more messed-up parts of himself from Evan, and now that Evan didn't feel like he was being a burden to Connor when he talked about his own problems. 

Neither of them mentioned the kiss however, and it was slowly killing Connor. 

 _He was emotional, and lonely,_ Connor would tell himself on a daily (read: hourly) basis, to stop himself from reading more into the kiss than he should. _He was emotional, and you were there, and you shouldn't hold him to something he didn't mean. It will absolutely fuck up your friendship. You only just got him back, don't force your feelings on him._

And it stayed that way for a while, and would have stayed that way for much longer had Connor not come back from class one night to find the dorm room empty, and a longer-than-normal note written on blue stationary and stapled and pinned to the wall on his side of the room. Connor could swear he felt his heart stop for a moment, before he ripped down the papers from their green thumbtack and began to read, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

 

_Dear Connor Murphy,_

_First of all, don't get worried, I'm okay. I just couldn't be in the room watching you read this, writing it at all was nerve-wracking enough. I would have just told you, but I don't always know how to do that. How to tell people things. Words just fail sometimes, and writing them down (this will be draft #6) helps me to organize exactly what I want to say. Because how I say this matters a lot to me, and I really don't want to do it wrong. This will probably mess up our friendship, but actually I think if you don't feel the same way it'll be alright. Our friendship is stronger than unrequited feelings, if it comes to that we'll find a way to get past it. You mean a lot to me, and your friendship means everything to me because before you I had never experienced real friendship, let alone having a best friend, let alone being in love. So here it is:_

 

_1\. I really like your hair. I love how dark it is, and how long it is, and how soft it looks. I don't want to come across too strong (or creepy or stalker-ish) but I have imagined running my fingers through it more times than I can count. It's beautiful._

_2\. I like how tall you are. I like it a lot more than I should, and for the sake of not embarrassing myself I'll leave it there ~~(rather than mention how long your legs are...too late).~~_

_3\. I like your nail polish. I liked it when you painted my nails that one time, and I wish you'd do it again. I'm bad at it, but I'd like to paint your nails again too. I like how you don't care that most guys don't have long hair and paint their nails, and I bet you'd look good in eyeliner too. I'm rambling (even in writing) but I just like your sense of style because it shows a lot about your personality. You're not afraid to take up space and to not blend in, like I am. You're beautiful._

_4\. I like your music, and your books, even though we have different tastes. I think our differences work well together. It's okay if I hate some of the things you like, or if you hate some of the things I like._

_5\. I love talking with you. I love how I feel like I can tell you anything. I love that you trust me enough to talk to me when you need to._

_6\. I like it when you let me ramble on about trees, even though I'm probably boring you. That was a stupid thing to write (excuse my anxiety making me think I'm not important to anyone), I mean I like hearing you talk about what you're interested in, even though we have different interests._

_7\. In high school, I felt like I wasn't a part of anything, like nothing I said mattered to anyone or made any kind of difference. I thought no one would notice or care if I wasn't there anymore. It was probably true then. Things are better now. They're better because of you._

_8\. I know you've felt that way before too, probably a lot worse than what I went through, and if I helped you at all....that would mean everything to me. You're so important to me, Connor, as a friend as well as because I care for you like this. Please talk to me or to someone when you need to because losing you....It would break me. I would be broken beyond repair if you disappeared._

_9\. Kissing you was incredible. I was exhausted and emotional and talking to you helped me so much, and it was totally the wrong time and I should have asked permission first and I'm sorry for all of that, but that kiss was really incredible. Did you feel that too? It's what I keep thinking about. I thought for a second you might have kissed back, but at the time I just thought it was because I was upset and you didn't want to say no. If that's true, I'm really sorry._

_10\. I love you. It's pretty clear, but I just thought I'd say it. I'm in love with you. I love you as a best friend, and in the romantic sense, and if you'll let me, I'll love you as your boyfriend._

_Jared's letting me stay at his house tonight. I wanted to give you some space to process all this. Please meet me at the orchard tomorrow at 3pm if you want to talk. Otherwise text/call and we can sort it out. Whatever's more comfortable for you works for me. I've said everything I needed to say._

_Sincerely, Evan Hansen._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost done!   
> seriously thank you guys for all the support. 130+ kudos! I'm blown away <3   
> comments are everything, so thank you to everyone who has commented so far I love you. Constructive criticism is cool too, so feel free to help me make this fic better. 
> 
> \- EL


	10. When everything's meant to be broken / I just want you to know who I am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title from Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited a little and added some stuff at the beginning, if my regular readers maybe want to have a re-read before ch. 10  
> I was going to add more Alana/Zoe but I think I'll save it for the work I'm planning on doing next. It's not a sequel; it's a platonic soulmate AU. So if you missed not seeing Jared and Alana and Zoe in this fic, you'll see them soon! 
> 
> here's a sappy epilogue. spoiler alert: they get together

Ten Small Moments: 

 

1.  It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Connor and Evan were watching a movie, procrastinating on studying (well, Connor was procrastinating, Evan was making revision flashcards), just the way it had been when they were just friends. In that sense, getting together hadn't really changed much about their relationship. Except now, Connor's head was resting on Evan's shoulder, he was enjoying the occasional stroke of Evan's hand through his tangled hair, and the occasional soft kiss pressed into cheeks and foreheads and the tips of noses that passed comfortably between them. 

2\. Being a couple who were also roommates, they were finding the whole situation of having two separate beds increasingly unnecessary. Of course, most of the time they slept apart, in the interest of getting a good night's sleep before an exam for example, or just out of wanting a little personal space, but it wasn't unusual for them to share a bed. Connor's long arms and legs curled perfectly around Evan's smaller body, making sure that neither of them fell out of whoever's twin bed they had sleepily crawled into before collapsing. 

3\. It was getting closer to winter now, so visits to the apple orchard had been put on hold, but now they went for walks around the campus on the cobblestone paths, slipping on ice and linking hands and arms in an effort not to fall. Rosy cheeks and kisses shared between cold-numbed lips were becoming Connor's new favourite things. 

4\. Leaving the notes for each other every morning, now ending them with "love you" and "see you soon" and "I'll make sure to text you dirty things (maybe some photos too, who knows) during your lecture, so pay attention" that had been absent during their friendship (that last one had been from Evan, to Connor's happy surprise). 

5\. Learning more about each other was nice too. They didn't have everything in common, but it was nice whenever Connor learned something new about Evan, or found himself wanting to share something with him. It was nice to feel known by someone. 

6\. The fighting sucked, but it never got as bad as it had earlier in their friendship (they hadn't stopped apologizing to each other for that yet), and they were always there when the other found himself sinking. The scars on Connor's arm faded over time, and no new ones were added.

7\. Many first meetings took place over time, some more difficult than others. Connor meeting Jared and Heidi; Evan meeting Zoe, and (eventually) Larry and Cynthia. Connor could see that his parents were trying to be better, and even though they had a long way to go towards mending their relationship, Connor no longer felt like no one cared about him. He was trying to be better for them as much as they were trying to be better for him. 

8\. Forehead kisses, mouth kisses, gentle goodnight kisses and heated kisses seared into jawlines and necks; yeah, Connor liked all of those. Being close to Evan, in every sense, was definitely a plus. 

9\. Evan's hands, intertwined with his own; the softness of Evan's lips; his blond hair; his expressive hazel eyes. Connor couldn't help but appreciate all of him. He ended up writing Evan a similar note to the one where Evan had told him that he liked him, making sure to include his seriousness, the soothing way he typed assignments, how he looked at Connor like he was his whole world.....

10\. Connor had never thought he'd fall in love. He had never thought that he would care like that for someone, or that someone could care like that about him. He thought at the time that he didn't deserve it, or that he wouldn't live long enough to see that happen for him the way it did for other people.

He had never been so happy about being wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support! 156 kudos as of today, and so many comments; it's crazy!!! <3  
> It's been awesome writing for you over the past few months. Hope you enjoyed my fic  
> Merry Christmas by the way (it's Christmas Eve tonight) and Happy Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and winter solstice and new year, or if you don't have any holidays around this time of year have a good winter break (those of you who are also students will enjoy the added benefit of actually sleeping for once!)  
> Anyway, thank you all so much, your support means the world to me. 
> 
> \- EL
> 
> edit: i made a tumblr! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/enjolras-lexa feel free to ask me stuff :)


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